All afternoon, Isabella Weaver's eyelids were twitching, leaving her feeling restless.
What's going on?
Is something bad about to happen?
Or is it because she didn't sleep well last night?
At 5:30, after work, Harry Hunter came to pick her up, and she nestled wearily into his arms, rubbing her eyes.
Harry Hunter's entire focus was on her, and he sensitively noticed her mood: "What's wrong? Did someone give you a hard time?"
Isabella Weaver shook her head gently in his embrace.
No one gave her a hard time.
Everyone was clearly very compliant, even Cora Ginger came to her solemnly, apologizing nonstop.
Harry Hunter kissed her on the corner of her forehead, speaking softly: "Then you're tired? Tomorrow's the weekend, let's have a good rest at home, I'll be with you."
Isabella Weaver nodded.
The phone in her bag rang, and Harry Hunter took it out, glanced at the message, it was from Cora Ginger.
